No Other Love
by someplaceovertherainbow
Summary: S1 AU. Mary wants nothing more to do with Matthew upon his arrival and she decides she hates him from the first moment she sees him. But does she truly hate him? An outing and an accident lead her to believe this may not be the case after all... (written for the MM AU Fest)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is my contribution to the MM AU Fest :) (the prompt for this was an AU in which Mary falls for Matthew first and has to win his heart and convince him of her love) I had intended this to simply be a one shot but it seems to have run away from me... so here is part one of I don't know how many. This story was inspired partly by the works of a particular classical composer and also in part by the words of a certain poet.

Enjoy reading :)

**No Other Love**

**Chapter One.**

* * *

Mary could easily recall a plethora of boring dinners; being sat next to odious young men who were anything but charming and old ladies who would regale her with the same story three or four times over without realising. But this, she thought as she looked at _him_, was surely the worst dinner she had ever experienced in all her life. She wasn't at all happy about the fact that she had been seated next to him at dinner. An occurrence, Mary was sure, that seemed to be part of her mother and grandmother's master plan to 'secure' her future.

Mary was glad that her father seemed to be completely oblivious to it all. Although she was sure that the idea was already formulating in his mind. He hadn't vocalised anything of course but it was blatantly obvious, that Matthew Crawley was to be a substitute for Patrick in _every_ way.

It angered Mary to no end that her family was seemingly not willing to fight the entail yet they were very willing to have her married to someone whom she didn't care for and certainly didn't love. She mightn't have been brought up to believe she would never marry for love but that didn't mean it wasn't something that Lady Mary Crawley had spent all her nights dreaming of.

_Mary had begged her mother to send Edith or even Sybil to welcome in the new additions to the family, even offering to run errands for her grandmother. Though like any mother would Cora had seen right through the thin facade of generosity and had all but ordered her daughter to Crawley House._

_It'll be over in a flash, she told herself, just be polite, speak quick and you can leave them be. No need to stay any longer than is absolutely necessary._

"_Well they're clearly going to push one of the daughters at me. They'll have fixed on that when they heard I was a bachelor."_

_Mary felt her blood begin to boil. How dare he? How dare he make such presumptions? His assumptions may prove to be entirely true, they had all but thrown her at Patrick during childhood so there would be nothing to stop them from flinging her at this new Mr. Crawley. But truth or not she was offended by his thinking that he had any right to make such a statement. But he did didn't he? He had every right to do whatever he wanted, he had everything and Mary hated him for that._

He had apologised of course, albeit through gritted teeth. Obviously it had been something his mother had made him do, their first interaction had been anything but pleasant and despite his embarrassment at having being caught making such presumptions as to her family's actions he was certainly not going to get off his high horse any time soon. And quite frankly, neither was she.

She hadn't had much of an opportunity the first time he had come to the Abbey to dine but this was his second dinner and he was much more settled now.

Mary was poised to show him for the arrogant coward he had been, the least he could have done was to make remarks to her face. Or did he simply lack the courage to do so, she wondered. Hardly the makings of an Earl in her mind.

"Papa, Cousin Matthew doesn't ride." She laughed, what had her father taken this man for? He was certainly not one of them. No class or sense of anything of the sort of course he didn't ri...

"I ride."

His gaze caught hers almost instantly; there was no sheepishness on his part, no faltering, instead his eyes seemed to pose her with a challenge, it was as if he were daring her to throw more at him. Matthew was ready for Mary's quick barbs, she however was not prepared for his defence.

"In fact..." He continued, taking a small sip from his wine glass, his face as neutral as ever as he tried to hide the smirk he felt forming, if it was a game that Mary wanted to play then it was a game she was going to get "As it so happens I've done quite a bit of horse riding. Perhaps we should ride out tomorrow? I would like to see more of the estate. Horseback seems to be a much more efficient mode of transport for such an excursion. Although I could go on my own if you don't want to _push in_."

It took all of Mary's self control not to lash out at him there and then. How dare he try and beat her at this game? Use her own words against there as if he were so terribly clever. He didn't like her, that much was evident. Which suited Mary just fine because she couldn't have cared less for her middle-class cousin.

"Nonsense. I'll speak to Lynch and have him saddle up a horse for you and Diamond for Mary. She's the resident rider in this household, she'll be able to show you the estate far better than I could on horseback."

"But Papa as a matter of fact tomorrow I..."

"Well then, it's all settled. Come by after breakfast Matthew. Then you'll have the whole day to explore the estate."

Mary had never eaten her fruit with such ferocity and determination before. Even with an attempt to get one up on him with her regaling of the story of Andromeda and Perseus Matthew wasn't at all dissuaded and in fact matched her quip for quip without hesitation. She had underestimated him completely although it wasn't enough to stop her not liking the man.

And now she had to spend an entire afternoon showing him around the estate. An estate that should have been hers by right and was now going to some stranger who had the gall to use her own words against her.

**...****...****...****...**

The sunshine was impossibly bright and warm, the day could not have been more perfect. Of course it was perfect, why wouldn't it be? It seemed to Mary, that not only were her parents not on her side but now Mother Nature was making fun of her. It would have been far too easy wouldn't it? To have there be rain and gushing winds, thereby preventing her from spending the day with the one person she didn't want to spend time with.

"It's so..." Matthew found the words escaping him as they looked back at the Abbey from a distance. They had stopped to give the horses a rest atop a high hill and the view was quite unlike he had ever seen in his life

"Old? Archaic?" Mary rolled her eyes at him, he had jumped off his horse the moment they had stopped and was now sitting down up against an old oak tree. How was it that this man was going to inherit the entire estate?

"Not quite the words I was looking for no." Matthew couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at her offerings "It's unlike anything I've ever seen before."

"Well one would expect that of course, coming from the city and being middle-class. I'm not at all surprised that this is the first time you've seen a place like Downton."

"Yes well... I'm sure I'll come to know Downton well, in time. " Matthew smiled at her as he stood up from his comfortable perch on the grass. He knew very well that his new found cousin did not want to be out with him any more than he with her.

Matthew didn't hate her, he knew the feeling was not mutual in this regard, but he certainly didn't care a great deal for Mary. He thought her snobbish, rude and rather condescending (he was certain of the last point, dinner the previous evening had given him sufficient evidence to believe this nothing but true). He hadn't asked for this at all and if given a choice he would be back in Manchester in a cosy flat going about his life as if he had never met this branch of the Crawley family.

But that wasn't to be. Matthew could never really go back to that way of life. He just had to get on with it all the best he could.

"Shall we continue? Or have you exhausted your horse riding ability today?"

"Not at all Cousin Mary. Let us be on our way."

As he moved towards the horse his foot got caught on one of the oak tree's roots and it sent him flying forwards, his body making a quiet thud as it connected with the ground.

"Oh my..." However much she thought she didn't care for Matthew Mary couldn't help but scream that escaped her lips as she watched him tumble and fall before coming to a natural stop only a few metres down the long slope.

Abandoning all sense of propriety she jumped off Diamond and rushed to his side. What was he thinking? He should have been watching where he was going. He exasperated her to no end, but the thumping feeling in her chest and the stirring of dread in the pit of her stomach made her feel incredibly uneasy. Why was someone she had convinced herself she couldn't stand suddenly filling her with so much worry?

"Matthew!" She patted his cheek gently, choosing to ignore how soft it felt beneath her palm "Matthew, _please_. Matthew! Are you hurt?"

"Ugh..." He groaned in response, opening his eyes to see a distressed and almost tearful Mary kneeling beside him "That was quite an undignified tumble if I do say so myself." He chuckled, sitting himself up with a slight grimace...it was certainly not the impression he had planned on making, now he was sure Mary only thought him more unworthy of her father's title and estate.

"Oh thank goodness you're alright." Mary sighed, a small unconscious smile gracing her lips "I thought you'd really hurt yourself."

"Just a few cuts and bruises to my body and perhaps my dignity."

"Oh never mind that. Here..." She stood and offered him her hand, feeling somewhat hurt when Matthew refused it and stood up on his own "We'll walk the horses back I think. And I'll have Carson call for Doctor Clarkson."

"There's no need for..."

"There is _every_ need. You may have broken something Matthew. You could be seriously hurt..." She said quietly, how terrible it would be for him to be seriously injured was beginning to dawn on her "Let me have the Doctor sent for."

He rolled his eyes at her with a playful smile. Mary was certainly stubborn, but he wasn't going to begrudge her this one request. Besides, he could almost picture his mother's stern face if he returned home with a broken bone. And that was certainly a situation he would avoid gladly.

"Alright, you win this round. I'll see Doctor Clarkson."

Mary breathed an almost audible sigh of relief, as they walked back to the horses, she looked quickly to Matthew who was walking gingerly a few paces in front of her.

She felt an unfamiliar ache in her chest. No it couldn't...could it? No, it wasn't, it simply couldn't be.

Mary tried to push it further and further aside but the harder she tried the harder that niggling feeling fought it's way back to the surface. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was supposed to hate him; there he was poised to take away everything that was supposed to belong to her, she had hated Patrick for the same reason, hating Matthew was the inevitable and logical option.

But when he turned to her, the smile on his face wide and bright, his left hand holding out Diamond's reigns to her, the foreign fluttering in her chest was still there and it wasn't going away. Mary felt almost frozen to the spot...

_Oh god..._ she gasped inwardly... she wasn't, was she?

* * *

_A/N: I know it wasn't quite along the lines of the prompt to begin with, but I couldn't make it easy for them could I? Tension makes for a much more interesting foundation doesn't it? hehe. _

_Hope you enjoyed the beginning of this story! :) more to come soon! :) xxx_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Firstly, to all those who have read the story thus far, thank-you so much! I really appreciated that you not only took the time to read it but to leave little reviews too. I hope you enjoy the second chapter as well :)

It's been really quite interesting to write this whilst re-watching Season 1 and deciding which moments I would take and which wouldn't make the cut. I can tell you I was definitely surprised at what made the cut, what I had initially planned for this story is no longer on the cards any more.

But enough of the speculation :P enjoy reading :) xx

**No Other Love**

**Chapter Two.**

* * *

_Three days._

That's how long it'd been since she had seen him, how long since she'd been avoiding him. Three days of utter confusion that no amount of walks about the grounds seemed to be able to cure. Even now as she strolled down an oak tree lined path her head was still spinning.

Mary had left Matthew alone the moment they'd stepped inside after returning from their ride. She couldn't even look at him. Too bewildered by the emotions that had snuck up on her. Emotions so new that even after giving herself three days to think about it all she still did not know how to handle them.

Growing up she had always been taught to keep her emotions in check, 'a lady must not reveal her feelings so openly' Granny had once told her (although the three Crawley girls, hidden at the top of the stairs, had once witnessed their Grandmother giving quite the animated display to their father who had said something she obviously hadn't agreed with). But now Mary found herself wanting to do the exact opposite; there was a part of her, which up until this point she hadn't known existed, that wanted to go to Matthew and tell him of her feelings whilst the other part, the larger and much stronger part at this point, told her she was being young and foolish.

But was she? She couldn't decide. And that's exactly why she had avoided Matthew at all costs .

It had been, Mary decided, the longest three days of her life.

She battled against the part of her that wanted to check on him after his fall, instead asking her father what Doctor Clarkson had said in regards to Matthew's injuries.

_"Nothing more than a few bumps, cuts and bruises. Clarkson said he'll be sore for a few days and should rest. But it's nothing serious"_

It had then taken what semblance she felt she had left of her self control to not rush over to Crawley House and tell Matthew how glad she was that he was alright. Things had frightened Mary before but there was something infinitely scarier about seeing Matthew motionless for a few moments than all the stories of ghouls and ghosts put together.

She wasn't exactly sure when it had happened.

Nothing had ever been so difficult to pinpoint as to when her feelings towards Matthew had gone from disgust and detestation to something much softer. Love was something she had only ever read about in novels or seen between her parents.

Mary wasn't even sure she could call what she seemed to be feeling love.

It _was _unlike anything she had ever known. Just the thought of his face or hearing his name set a smile upon her face which was always always accompanied by that flutter in her chest that she was slowly becoming accustomed to. Matthew treated her as an equal, even after the horrid way she had behaved towards him he never once belittled her. It was already a completely different kind of interaction than the one she had with Patrick. Patrick was nice enough but he didn't want their proposed marriage any more than she did. He didn't speak to her the way Matthew would, Matthew wasn't afraid to challenge her or put her on the spot.

But it was almost useless. However kind he had been she was sure he didn't care for her. Matthew knew as well as she did that Mary was going to be pushed towards him as a prospective wife and he had made it abundantly clear on day one that he was not at all pleased at the prospect.

If she were to make her feelings known what would he think of her? Would he think she was nothing more than a pawn in her parents game, professing her 'feelings' in order to seal the deal as quickly as possible? The thought was one too hard to bear, and yet despite it all Mary felt compelled to speak to Matthew.

To let him _know._

Make him _see._

The chance that he might love her too was minute, like fishing for a needle in a haystack, but however infinitesimal it may be it was as though she were a magnet. She was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame, despite the consequences it was a leap of faith she had no choice but to take.

"Cousin Mary..." ...but not so soon perhaps.

Mary looked up from her reverie to find him strolling towards her, unconsciously her feet had taken her back towards the house, her favourite bench beneath the tree now in sight. That new found courage and determination was all but gone, Mary wanted to turn and _run_.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to startle you. I was just coming up to find your father, I was wondering whether he'd mind going to inspect the cottages some more." Mary watched him with a sense of bewilderment; normally she had absolutely no qualms whatsoever with responding when spoken to, how was it that Matthew had managed to render her speechless through doing absolutely nothing out of the ordinary?

"Mary?"

"Oh yes. What was it you wanted?"

"Your father..." Matthew replied, somewhat baffled at having to do so, surely she had been listening "Is he about?"

"I dare say he'll be in the library. His head buried in papers or books, you may find him to be rather busy."

To Matthew, Mary Crawley was a walking enigma. How was it that one woman could be so cold and unfeeling toward him one moment and now so calm and almost reserved? He had his suspicions of course but he daren't voice them, he held no desire for confrontation of any sort.

"I'm sure he'll welcome the respite. And I do have quite a few questions for him."

"Perhaps...if you wouldn't mind that is, perhaps I could join you? Or are you afraid I'm quite the bad luck charm."

Mary cursed herself instantly. That was far too forward of her, what would he think of her? What ghastly conclusions would he draw about her character now that she had all but flung herself at him. She was of course ever the dramatist, however weary Matthew may have been of her sudden change of attitude she was quite off the mark when it came to the rest of it.

"It will be mostly estate business, I wouldn't want to bore you with it. And won't you be rather tired? I see you've already been out walking."

The feeling of sudden defeat was like a slap in the face. Of course he wasn't going to willingly spend any time with her and Mary silently admonished herself for being so foolish to think otherwise. Why had she been so cruel to Matthew upon his arrival? She had all but destroyed her chances and was only just beginning to realise it.

"Yes of course. Goodbye then Cousin Matthew..." She spoke softly, not even daring to meet his eye as she turned and walked past him.

"Does the estate really interest you?" Matthew called after her, his flippant dismissal of her didn't sit too well with his conscience

"I love Downton. I always have." _And I think I'm falling in love with you_ "But it's not my place to be interested. Nothing can ever come from it."

**...****...****...****...**

Some would have called it fate, others troublesome meddling but Mary called it nothing but horrible luck. She had taken to having dinner on a tray in her room for the past three days, it was wrought with irony that on the one night she decided she would join the family again she was placed next to the one man she had been hell bent on avoiding. The man who had rebuffed her offer of company. The man who _didn't_ love her.

"I hope you didn't think me too rude earlier." Matthew spoke softly, keen to not involve anyone else in their conversation, particularly the ever sharply tuned ears of Cousin Violet who was sitting to his right

"Not at all. Estate business isn't for women, I shouldn't have asked." Mary replied nonchalantly, stabbing at the beans on her plate with an odd ferocity

"Surely you don't think me that archaic? I only didn't want to trouble you, it would've been quite a long walk."

"I assure you Cousin Matthew I am quite capable of looking after myself when walking, you however..." She raised her eyebrows at him in challenge

"Am not, well not when there are tree roots or hills involved."

"How are the bruises?"

"To my legs or my dignity?" He chuckled and Mary couldn't help but join him; his laughter made her heart flutter and she took a rather large sip of wine with the hope that it would disguise the blush rising in her cheeks

"Would you ever show me the cottages?"

A moment that lasted no more than a few seconds seemed to go on for an eternity, a room filled with the quiet chatter of the others seemed to still with the most deafening of silences. Never had a question meant more to Mary, never had there been an answer she craved so much.

"Yes, of course..."

"You sound surprised." Mary teased, although it was far more for her benefit than his, anything to mask the crushing feeling of possible rejection

"No I...I suppose in a way, yes I am." He confessed "We were on far less than speaking terms when I first arrived."

"You should have more faith..." Mary said, her voice tainted almost to a whisper "Besides while it is still my home I should think it more practical that I understand it all. Don't you?"

Mary regretted the words almost as soon as they had slipped past her lips and the polite smile from Matthew who turned to talk to Cousin Violet as soon as she said them confirmed that they had had the utmost undesired effect.

She had been so close. Closer than she had thought possible only a few days ago and now she had all but destroyed her chances. Convincing Matthew of her true feelings was proving to be far more difficult than she thought it would be. Mary cursed herself, why couldn't her brain and heart work in perfect harmony? If they did everything would be so much simpler and she wouldn't find herself in such a rut.

**...****...****...****...**

Matthew breathed a deep sigh of relief has he stepped through the front door of Crawley House; the night had been an awkward one at that, to say nothing of the ride home with his mother who he could tell was ready to press him with questions. Just why, he couldn't say, but all the tell tale signs were there. It was moments like these where he yearned for the solitude their house in Manchester seemed to bring them.

"What a lovely evening..." Isobel sighed, allowing Molesly to take her coat "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes quite." Matthew was quick and sharp, uncomfortable with the presence of the third party "I'm actually rather tired, I'll be off to bed. And I'm quite capable of readying myself, thank you Molesly."

Careful to not show how wounded he felt at his dismissal Molesly bid his employers goodnight with a simple nod of the head before disappearing for the night.

"Poor Molesly. You ought to be a bit nicer to him Matthew." Isobel chastised her son, in a manner that he knew was only the precursor to a much lengthier lecture on a completely different subject

"I am nice to him. I was polite, I said thank you." Matthew replied, hearing clearly the way his voice immediately became defensive

"It's his job to help you, to help both of us, give the poor man some credit. Nobody stops you from doing your job do they?"

"Well of course not but that is a completely different po..."

Isobel cut him off quickly, all too familiar with her son's attempts at defending himself "It is exactly the same point and don't try and suggest otherwise Matthew Reginald..."

"Mother..." Matthew groaned "I am a grown man. Please don't..."

"Then for heavens sake act like one Matthew. You're intelligent, surely you of all people can try to understand we all find our own purpose in different places."

"Thank you." He chuckled, he admired the way both she and his father had always spoken with complete honesty, he liked to think they'd handed it down to him in some way "Goodnight Mother."

"How was Cousin Mary this evening?" _Oh she wouldn't?! _He asked himself, turning back to face her

"Fine. You spoke to her yourself several times." He said casually, hoping to brush the conversation off

"You both seemed to be getting along so well."

"Don't you start!" Matthew said bitterly, he'd made it abundantly clear to her on their first day in the village that he would be the one to pick his wife, yet here she was... "I assure you Cousin Mary and I will not..."

"Don't be too hard on her Matthew." Isobel warned gently, exasperated once more with the way he was reacting Yes- she had seen the way Mary had treated Matthew when the two of them had first met but she hardly blamed the poor girl?

Shifted around from pillar to post and expected to give up what should have rightfully been hers to a man she did not know from a bar of soap? Isobel mightn't of agreed with the way of life that the Downton Crawleys' lived but she certainly didn't like them any less because of it

"Too hard on her? Firstly I think Cousin Mary is more than capable of looking after herself, she doesn't need you or certainly me to look after her and we both know what she's doing Mother. Cruel one minute and kind the next? If she thinks that for one moment that I'll be a..."

"I won't play this game with you..." Isobel sighed, the young man was much too stubborn, a quality she unfortunately had to admit came from her "Goodnight." She walked past him and up the stairs without so much as a second glance, _the cold shoulder will do the silly thing some good_, she thought to herself, _let him think about it all on his own for a few hours._

He was too exhausted to call after her.

Matthew couldn't understand how he was the only one that seemed to see what was going on. Mary had been engaged to marry Patrick Crawley and now she was pushing herself towards him with hopes of the same result. Well he wouldn't budge, _no_, he downright refused to be a pawn in such a ridiculous game.

**...****...****...****...**

Matthew left the house quickly the next morning not even bothering to eat breakfast. A rumbling stomach was a small price to pay if it meant not having a repeat of the conversation he'd had with his mother the night before.

He strolled at a slow, leisurely pace throughout the estate admiring the towering disposition of the huge trees, each a marker of the age of Downton and each it's own little piece of historical wonder. Matthew stared at all around him with wonderment; he would be the first to admit that his mind was changing quite rapidly, he hadn't wanted to become the Earl of Grantham but now he was beginning to get used to the idea. The beauty of all around him and the notion that one day it would all be his helped him to realise it wasn't all as bad as he'd once thought it was.

Suddenly as he neared the stables, through the chirping of the birds and the soft rustling of the wind in the trees another noise broke. A small, quiet sound he found almost impossible to identify. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It sounded like someone talking, although exactly who it was he couldn't tell.

His curiosity piqued, Matthew followed the sound, determined to discover its source.

What he saw was the farthest from his expectations. She looked so completely different to how he had seen her previously, quite unlike anything she had ever presented herself to be.

The source of the talking was non other than the young woman who had angered him and confused him so the night before.

_Mary._

But there was nothingstoic nor anything pretentious about her.

It was all so simple and completely unabashed.

She was simply kneeling before a tiny young foal, slowly handing it small slices of apple to munch upon whilst gently whispering words of endearment to the tiny creature.

Matthew found it quite amusing to see her in such a state; it was a far cry from the Lady Mary he had first encountered and made he made a mental note to bring up this up the next time he found himself at loggerheads with her (a situation which, he anticipated, would be much sooner than later).

But for now he was quite content to linger quietly in the doorway unnoticed, just smiling and watching.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter to you all, but I hope you enjoyed it :) Do let me know what you thought- I love hearing from you all! :)_

_And what, I wonder, is to be of our favourite duo? Especially with the March of 1913 looming around the corner... You'll just have to wait and see I suppose..._

_hehehe till next time! :) xxx_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Firstly I have to say that I am so so so very sorry- I know it's been way too long between drinks but writing this chapter completely ran away from me and I was stuck for a while as to trying to decide where this chapter was going (also I am a notorious procrastinator! haha). Thank-you all so much for all your lovely words and for sticking with this story, it truly means a lot :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter :) xx

**No Other Love**

**Chapter Three.**

* * *

Matthew was absolutely exhausted by the time he stepped through the front door after what had been one of the more strenuous and testing days in his working life. Between the mountains of paperwork that seemed to have found their way onto his desk and a more than troublesome and trying client he was absolutely exhausted. To say that he was relieved that he now had two whole days of leisure in front of him was an understatement; Matthew was practically overjoyed at the prospect and for a moment he felt as though there was nothing that could have burst his perfect bubble of bliss.

The air of comfort surprised Matthew as he made his way down the hall, the soft murmur of voices barely audible from the sitting room. Life in the country was one he would openly admit he hadn't wanted. But with every day, every week, every month that was passing him by he found he was really beginning to enjoy it all. Crawley House simply oozed warmth and it was feeling more and more like home every day.

Of course the only unsettling thing about the transition from Manchester to Downton had been making the acquaintance of his Cousin Mary. A woman who he was no sooner to figuring out even after having known her for some three months. One moment she was as cold as ice and the other she was talking to him as if she had never seen someone so interesting. And that afternoon Matthew had seen her fawning over the foal in the stables had only confused him further. Just exactly _who_ was Lady Mary Crawley?

There was no doubt in his mind that she was after one thing and one thing only. Mary had been 'informally' engaged to Patrick so it was only logical really that the family would now turn to him as their next option. Mary was a smart woman, that much Matthew had been able to deduce, and he was also certain that without any help from her family that Mary would be pushing herself toward him whenever the moment was opportune.

"...he was only nine months old there, but he looked so much like Reginald already" Matthew heard the unmistakable pride in his mother's voice as he opened the sitting room door, she was no doubt showing his baby photos off with great gusto and relish.

"Afternoon mother..." He smiled, but for as quickly as that smile appeared it disappeared almost quicker upon seeing just who his mother was having for tea "Cousin Mary."

She was dressed up in her finest, understated compared to the other garments he had seen her in at dinner, but her finest none the less. Matthew shook his head, he _couldn't_ think of her like that, marriage in his mind had to be for love. The motives with which he assumed Mary had been pursuing him were not the motives he believed warranted a proposal from him. He wouldn't fall for it.

"Your mother was just showing me that photo of you as a baby up on the mantle piece..." Mary tried to remain stoic, she could tell just by looking at Matthew that he was less than pleased to see her, but even the thought of learning more about who Matthew was was enough to send an unexplainable sense of warmth through her

"Yes well..."

"You know I just remembered, I have to telephone Doctor Clarkson, about some new treatments at the hospital..." _No,_ Matthew cursed inwardly, subtlety had never been one of his mother's strong suits. Isobel had been trying to get Matthew to talk to Mary ever since she had had that argument with her son after dinner at the house one evening. And now she was all but saying out loud _please talk for heavens sake before I talk for you._ Matthew rolled his eyes at the thought of he and Mary becoming one of his mother's causes.

"I'm sure it's not urgent Mother..."

"No, no, I simply must do it right this very moment..." Isobel waved her hand at him dismissively as she hurried out of the room, closing the door with a quiet but definitive thud behind her.

"Cousin Isobel is not very subtle at all is she?" Mary remarked, her eyebrows turned in an upwards quirk, making it very hard for Matthew to remain so indifferent toward her

"Lesson one when it comes to Mother; subtlety and her do _not _go together in the same sentence."

"_I simply must do it right this very moment..."_ Mary's impersonation of his mother was not spot on by any means but Matthew couldn't help but let out a light hearted chuckle at her effort "I'm sorry. I'm afraid that was rather rude of me."

"On the contrary..." Matthew smiled, taking a seat opposite her "I am rather impressed by your impersonation of Mother. It was as if she were back in the room talking to us."

"I am very sorry about your father..." Mary's voice dropped to almost a whisper, her gaze cast downwards, Matthew could have sworn he heard a tinge of sadness in her voice "I do wish I could have met him."

"You do?" Matthew couldn't hide his surprise

"Of course." She looked back up at him and for the first time Matthew saw what he believed to be nothing but the complete truth from Mary "You're mother speaks the world of him."

"He would've liked you." He admitted "Very much. He was a kind man; not just nice but kind, I don't know if I've ever met a man like him."

"Of course not, you can't..." _You can't meet yourself really, can you?_ Was what she had wanted to say but Mary stopped herself, foolishness was not going to make Matthew see how deeply she cared for him "Do you remember much about him? Isobel said you were only very young when he..." _stupid, stupid Mary! How could you be so insensitive?_

"I was fourteen. Not very young, but young still. Father fancied himself to be quite the joke teller..." Matthew reminisced fondly, unconsciously allowing Mary a moment to see nothing but the true him "He would often regale Mother and I with stories at the dinner table. The stories were always fascinating, his jokes on the other hand...well I suppose Mother and I let him think they were quite witty. I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise."

They sat in silence for a moment and it was a silence that was worlds away from the others the two had shared in the past. It was comfortable; it wasn't deafening nor was it painful or awkward, it was more than pleasant, it was as though everything that needed to be said was being said simply by not saying anything at all.

"I'm so sorry Matthew..." Mary sighed

"Don't be. Father was ill, I stopped blaming myself a long time ago, although I suspect part of Mother still hasn't. But you needn't be sorry, you didn't know us then."

"No...I suppose you're right."

Mary hadn't been apologising for the death of Reginald Crawley, although she did feel the awful sting of sadness just thinking about it, she wanted to tell Matthew how sorry she was for treating him the way she had when they'd first met. How sorry she was for being so rude and horrible. She just hoped to god that he would see that, someday, somehow.

"I'm surprised to see you out actually, I thought you'd be up at the house. I'm sure the Christmas preparations must be in full swing." Matthew changed the subject with natural ease, he had become an expert at this when it came to talking about his father, it was a subject he was yet to be completely comfortable talking about

"I was, I suppose you could say, banished" She said flippantly

"Banished?" Matthew's curiosity was most definitely piqued

"Call it a clash of artistic differences. I thought the gold tinsel suited the tree better, Edith thought silver. Naturally I was right..."

"Of course..." He smirked

"I think Papa separated us for the sake of his own sanity...and the rest of the house."

"I quite like silver myself..." Matthew baited her, knowingly of course, it was a temptation to sweet to resist

"You would." Mary laughed softly "It's much more ohhh I don't know..."

"_Middle class_ ?" His reply was a bit sharper than he intended but Matthew was having a little too much fun to pay too much attention to it

"I...I wasn't..." It was like a slap to the face to have him put those words in her mouth; it hurt to think that Matthew assumed she thought so little of him. Especially when what she truly thought of him was the exact opposite.

"Relax Mary...I was only joking." Matthew said, offering her a warm smile of reassurance

"I didn't think it very funny at all." Mary's voice trembled, she felt the sting of the tears that were beginning to pool in her eyes and before they had the chance to spill down her cheeks she made a hasty exit, unable to look Matthew in the eye or make a coherent goodbye.

He had been only joking of course, he mightn't have liked the idea of Mary being pushed at him but the last thing he had wanted to do was offend her. Matthew was most definitely his father's son, a kind and gentle young man to the very core.

But as he sat there, running his hand through his hair with a sigh, he was truly perplexed at the scene that had just unfolded in front of him. Matthew could have sworn he saw tears welling in Mary's eyes; he hadn't just offended her, no, it appeared that his words had wounded her far deeper than he could have ever thought possible.

**...****...****...****...**

Ever since she was a small little girl with big wide eyes and her hair in bows Christmastime had brought Mary nothing but joy and she would eagerly await the time when her mother would take her and her sisters into Ripon to help them buy the family's Christmas presents. But this year was different. She couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that her afternoon at Crawley House a week earlier had left her with. Mary wanted to be as far away from the festivities and all of it as she could possibly get.

Further than Ripon, than Downton, than the Abbey, further than the farthest corner of the estate- just _away_.

Her head felt as though it were filled with an impossibly heavy fog, her thoughts swimming around in a thick smoke, everything felt so impossible and so painfully difficult.

With every step she tried to take towards Matthew, every time she was close to revealing her true feelings she was pushed backwards with gentle force. His words the day before had been nothing more than a simple joke yet it felt as though he had delivered a harsh punch straight to her chest. Her heart ached and she couldn't understand why.

Love was still a somewhat foreign subject for the young Mary Crawley.

_Duty Mary. That's what marriage is. You'll marry Cousin Patrick and then everything will be as it should. Do your duty by this house, this estate and by your family._

Never once had anyone ever mentioned love to her, not in the romantic sense. She knew her parents were deeply in love but she also knew that this love was one that blossomed _after_ a marriage with purely economic and business foundations. Mary had convinced herself that if she were lucky this would happen to her one day. But when she learned Patrick, her albeit pleasant and kind but horribly dull cousin, was to be her husband one day she had resigned herself to the fact that her marriage would be nothing more than a matter of convenience.

Mary had grown to accept and almost look forward to the idea of having the wealth, the title and the social standing. Even after Patrick's death she was quite content with the prospect of marrying a man for his money and power and not for love.

But that was before Matthew Crawley had waltzed into her life and knocked her expectations for six.

He challenged everything; her preconceptions of friendship, of the men and of _love_. He challenged her at any given opportunity and the battle was one that Mary was not prepared for. One that she could fight but could not control despite her attempts to do so.

She was more than relieved when the car came to a rolling stop outside the front door of the Abbey. She loved Sybil dearly but their annual Christmas shopping trip to Ripon had been long, arduous and oddly painful. Mary was thankful, of course, that it had just been her and Sybil and that Edith had been called to tea at their Grandmother's. A very strategic move that she knew would've been made to prevent yet another argument between her and Edith. But whatever the motives behind it, she was thankful none the less.

However she had been unable share in her youngest sister's enthusiasm as Sybil chatted away animatedly about the gifts they had purchased for Edith and their parents. Instead she nodded politely when asked her opinions on the gifts, too lost in her own thoughts to form any kind of coherent response.

Her hands hugged her coat tight, hoping to conceal the neatly wrapped present underneath it. A present she'd bought for someone she had been avoiding yet again, a present she didn't fancy having to explain to anyone and one she wasn't even sure that she should have purchased in the first place. But it was one that she had felt absolutely compelled to buy.

******...****...****...****...**

_Neither of them were quite sure how they'd managed to have been left alone in the library, wasn't this sort of occurrence frowned upon with the utmost scrutiny? It most certainly was. And yet there they were, friends or foe neither could determine which, talking over tea._

"_Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth- whether it existed before or not."_

_Mary simply rolled her eyes, but her gaze didn't leave that of her guest for one moment. Whatever her facade might've been, whatever strength and poise she may have been determined to show Matthew she could do little to dull the magnet that seemed to be between them. And wasn't sure she wanted to._

"_Anyone could tell you that. It is hardly profound Matthew." She stated matter-of-factly_

"_On the contrary. Keats is as profound as they come, no one could quite weave words together as he did." Matthew was quick to defend his favourite poet._

"_Oh I don't know...what about Shakespeare, Wilde, Yeats? Not to mention Austen and the Brontë __women..." _

_Matthew's mock exasperation was a thin veil for the smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. He should've known her response would be anything but short and simple "And yet while they are all prolific writers in their own right I'm not entirely sure any of them would match Keats in his talents."_

"_You are entirely too biased. Are you related to the late Mr John Keats? Do you feel some sort of duty to his memory?"_

"_No relation I assure you." He laughed "But I do admire his work."_

"_I prefer Oscar Wilde."_

"_Ohh?" Mattthew was surprised, to say the least "I would have pegged you as a champion of someone like Charlotte Brontë."_

"_Because we're both women?" _

"_No...Mary I...that's not...I didn't..." Matthew fumbled "I'm sorry."_

"_Don't pay attention to what I say Matthew. I was only joking." She laughed_

_"So Wilde is your favourite?..." He said slowly, afraid of treading on her toes yet again_

"_Yes, but perhaps I could be persuaded otherwise." Mary looked up from her cup of tea, their eyes locked together, she was fearful that she had made a fool of herself but she prayed for a miracle all the same._

* * *

_A/N: Apologies once again for not updating sooner but I do hope that there are some of you still reading this despite the delay :)_

_I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter and that you'll share your thoughts on it._

_In the next chapter Christmas comes to Downton and who knows, maybe things will pan out for our favourite duo or maybe things aren't quite settled just yet..._

_Until next time xxxx_


	4. Chapter 4

"_For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair."- John Keats_

* * *

He glanced about the room, swept up in the grandeur and joy of the occasion, it was much more low-key than he had expected from this new branch of his family but it was grand all the same. It was a fact that Matthew was surprised to learn did not bother him in the slightest; Christmas had long been his favourite holiday, one that had always been celebrated with the utmost fervour, one that was lavish and with absolutely no expense spared. It had been an ocassion steeped in tradition and family, values that had been instilled in him from boyhood by his parents. But since the passing of his father Matthew had found it increasingly difficult to enjoy the festive season; Christmas was about family and there was a gaping hole in his.

Despite all the happiness that surrounded him, Matthew's mind had not been completely at ease for some weeks. His relationship, and he wasn't even sure that their connection warranted such a label, with Mary had become more and more strained with every day that passed. And for the life of him, he could not understand what he had done wrong, or if it were his faux pas that had caused the apparent discomfort between the two.

Mary was by far the most complex enigma that he had ever encountered. Problem solving had always been one of his strong suits from his schooling days through to his time at university and in the working world but this was one equation that he could not provide an answer too. His current quandary was beyond frustrating.

Christmas Day hadn't changed any of it.

Not that he had expected it to, if he were truly honest with himself. Why would it? Nothing was going to change the simple fact that he and Mary were still being pushed into each other's arms. Matthew was half expecting Robert to approach him before the New Year asking him whether he had any plans for a proposal.

Matthew took a large sip of tea in an attempt to steady himself; he had just begun to enjoy the festivities when once again thoughts of Mary had managed to invade his mind.

How was it, he wondered, that she managed to infiltrate his thoughts so often? When they were seated next to each other at dinner, even when he was pouring through cases at the firm and now as they were celebrating together as family she was still there in his mind. Every smile, every witty barb.

He feigned the need for some fresh air and hurried out of the room, desperate for a moment's respite from his troublesome thoughts.

**__****...__****...__****...**

The sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet was a sound Matthew welcomed eagerly. Childhood memories of making snowmen with his father and hurling snow balls at each other were floating to the surface and he was more than willing to welcome those as well.

_Just a few moments sitting on the bench_, _just a few minutes alone and then I'll go back. If I'm quick enough I'll doubt they'll notice I've been gone at all. Just a few m..._

Was it a trick of light he wondered?

Or perhaps his imagination had taken to painting vivid illusions out of spite.

He took a few steps further towards the bench, and that was all it took, less than a metre for him to notice that the little 'trick of light' was anything but. Was he never to be free of her, even for a small moment?

"Heavens!" Mary gasped, the snapping of a twig alerting her to the presence of another "Oh Cousin Matthew...it's only you." She turned to see him and sighed with relief

"_Only_ me?"

"I wish you wouldn't do that." Mary said quietly, returning her gaze to her lap

"Do what?" He asked, taking the seat beside her "Dear god, Mary you're not wearing a coat! Here please..." Matthew unbuttoned his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders "Better. Much better."

"No sense of propriety at all...now you'll freeze." She said plainly, her gaze still planted firmly in her lap

"But you won't." He stated matter-of-factly

"Please don't Matthew. Don't do that." Mary bit her lip in an attempt to stave off the tears

"You know, I can't fulfill your request if I don't know what it is I've done..."

"Why do you make fun of me like that? Before, when I said it was only you or last week at Crawley House where you dared to put words in my mouth and make me out to be such a horrible person. Why Matthew? Answer me that."

To say that he was shocked was an understatement. Never one to be intentionally insensitive, Matthew felt instantly guilty upon realising that he had hurt Mary. He had only acted the way he had acted and said the things he said because he believed it to be their common ground. They argued, they threw quick-witted comments at each other, it was just how they were.

"I'm sorry Mary I didn't realise..."

"No." She cut him off "Never mind. What's done is done."

More than once Mary had imagined this precise moment in her mind. She had it all down to a fine art; what she would say, how she would say it and what her desired response from Matthew would be. It often played out like a scene in a romantic novel, with grand gestures and poetic whisperings, but as she had come to discover all too quickly life wasn't at all that simple.

"This is for you..." Mary's voice quietly broke the silence after what seemed like a lifetime "I...Happy Christmas." She handed him the small package she had concealed beneath her hands

"Mary..." He said, taking the present from her hands "I'm afraid I've not got anything to give you."

"That's no matter...it's just a silly little present. Quite trivial really."

"Nonsense," Matthew smiled, carefull unwrapping the delicate tissue paper "I'm sure it's anything bu...Oh my...Mary. How did you know?" His grin was impossibly wide as he marvelled at the small book of poetry in front of him

"Do you like it?" Mary asked, daring to look into Matthew's eyes for the first time since he'd sat beside her

"It is by far the best gift I have received today. Thankyou."

"Good." She smiled "I have it on good authority that Keats is as profound as they come. And I hope my source is a reliable one..."

Her words would've passed straight over his head had Matthew not caught the seriousness of her gaze. The way her eyes seemed to be pleading, almost begging him to notice. Just what though? What was she trying to tell him? He looked from Mary, to the book, then back to her once more.

"Perhaps your source has been less than credible on occasion..." Matthew offered, the pieces of the puzzle slowly beginning to fit together

"The source has indeed. That..." Mary stopped herself quickly, she was a lady, and ladies never spoke of such things so openly "I'm sorry. It's not...I shouldn't be speaking of such things. Least of all to you."

Matthew was stunned and it was as if the events of the past three months were being replayed before him.

His accident on the afternoon of his first outing with Mary and her concern over his wellbeing.

The smile on her face and look of pleading in her eyes as she asked him to show her the cottages.

And the pain and tears that threatened to fall when he had gently made fun of her.

But none of it made sense to him. Matthew Crawley had always considered himself an intelligent man, often rightly so, but no amount of analysing and pondering could help him decode the moments he had spent in Mary's company. She hated him, surely she did, she didn't love him. _Love?_ Where on earth had he pulled that one from? He was taking away her life, her birth right, surely she must feel nothing for him but hatred. It couldn't be anything else.

"You can tell me, surely we're friends enough for that." Matthew took her hand in his with a smile but she snatched it away instantly "Perhaps not..."

"If I tell you, you must promise not to laugh. I won't have you making light of anything." Mary said quite seriously

"I promise." Matthew replied with a sense of uncertainty "Now what was it that you were going to say."

"I don't hate you." Mary said cautiously, hoping that he would understand what she was trying to tell him without her having to spell it out

"Well that's...that's good to know Cousin Mary, I...I don't hate you either."

"You're not listening Matthew..." She huffed, rolling her eyes indignantly "I don't _hate _you. I could never hate you."

"Yes..." He chuckled "You've said this but Mary I don't understand what you're trying to..."

She laughed almost bitterly as she stood from the bench, brushing the snowflakes from her dress "I knew you would make light of this, promises can't mean very much to you at all."

_Matthew Crawley you clod! _He cursed himself; how was it that he had managed to hurt her once again? It seemed that almost every word that came out of his mouth wounded her in some way. He looked up to Mary and watched carefully, determined to not make the same mistakes he seemed to be making all too often. Her shoulders began to move up and down slowly, her hand flying quickly to her mouth but it did little to stifle the sob.

"Mary..." He said, resting a hand on her upper arm as he came to stand beside her "I'm sorry..." Although he was still not quite sure just what it was that he was apologising for "Now please..." He turned her to face him and the sight almost broke his heart; eyes red and wet, her bottom lip still quivering ever so slightly

"I did hate you once," Mary admitted quietly "At least I thought I should but I couldn't, when you fell that day while we were riding I...I don't _hate_ you Matthew. I..." She had practiced this moment in her mind almost every night before she fell asleep; she knew exactly what she was going to say to Matthew but now words seemed to fail her completely

Matthew took her small hand in his larger one and looked into her eyes, hoping to find the words he'd come to realise weren't going to come out of her mouth any time soon. And it hurt, when his gaze met hers', her deep brown eyes full of fear and trepidation.

"_You cannot conceive how I ache to be with you: how I would die for one hour.__.._" Mary tried to snatch her hand away from Matthew's grasp as soon as she'd spoken, her mouth having acted of its own accord before she'd had a chance to stop it. The three words she longed to say seemed to be too difficult, instead she reached for something she hoped Matthew would understand straight away.

Time seemed to still.

It froze and everything seemed to move in a perpetual slowness, neither Matthew nor Mary able to say or do anything but look ahead, each trying to make sense of the moment everything they thought they knew changed.

Mary had thrown caution to the wind and it had completely knocked Matthew off his feet. This was not what he had prepared himself for, he thought as he took a deep breath, trying to gain some composure, _Mary is supposed to hate me, she hates me,she...she loves me_

"When?" Matthew asked hesitantly, just how long had been oblivious to her feelings?

"When you fell, the thought of you being hurt, it was just...it was too much" A few lone tears started to trickle down her cheeks "But I seemed to do an awfully good job at making things difficult for myself. I only ever seem to make you angry with me or laugh at me."

She dabbed at her cheeks with the edge of her sleeve and Matthew fought hard to suppress a chuckle at the very un Lady Mary like action.

"Ohh Mary..." Matthew sighed "I'm so sorry. I didn't know..."

"Yes well..." Mary sniffed, standing up from the bench "Now you do." And with that she was gone, walking away from him without so much a second glance. Opening her heart and telling him all it held was more painful than anything Mary had ever felt in her life. And she knew, she daren't hope, that he would ever return her affections. But what was done was done, at least he knew now, there would be no more secrecy between them.

"Wait!" Matthew called out after her "Please," He whispered to himself as he watched her continue to walk away from him, albeit at a slow pace "Mary _please_" This time she stopped.

Mary turned to face him, her eyes angry, cheeks tear-stained waiting on bated breath as he opened his mouth to speak.

* * *

_A/N: I am beyond sorry for the amount of time that it has taken me to get this chapter completed. But a myriad of things got in the way (illness and writer's block to name a few) of me being able to get this done. Never the less, here it is and I hope you enjoy it. I won't make too many promises as to when I will have chapter five ready but I do hope it won't be too long in coming, not as long as it's taken me with this chapter anyway._

_Thankyou so much for reading :) xxxxxx_


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